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Sacrificing  the  earth  for  paradise  is  giving  up 

the  substance  for  the  shadow. 

—Victor  Hugo. 


Is  Life  Worth  Living 
Without  Immortality? 


A  Lecture  Delivered  Before 
the  Independent  Religious 
Society,  Chicago 


By 

M.  M.  MANGASARIAN 


I  may  be  doing  you  an  injustice,  Bertie,  but  it 
seemed  to  me  in  your  last  that  there  were  indications 
that  the  free  expression  of  my  religious  views  had 
been  distasteful  to  you.  That  you  should  disagree 
with  me  I  am  prepared  for;  but  that  you  should  ob- 
ject to  free  and  honest  discussion  of  those  subjects 
which  above  all  others  men  should  be  honest  over, 
would,  I  confess,  be  a  disappointment.  The  Free- 
thinker is  placed  at  this  disadvantage  in  ordinary 
society,  that  whereas  it  would  be  considered  very  bad 
taste  upon  his  part  to  obtrude  his  unorthodox  opin- 
ion, no  such  consideration  hampers  those  with  whom 
he  disagrees.  There  was  a  time  when  it  took  a  brave 
man  to  be  a  Christian.  Now  it  takes  a  brave  man 
not  to  be. 

SIR  A.  CONAN  DOYLE, 
The  Stark  Munro  Letters — Fourth  Letter. 


BtacK 


3s  life  UElortf)  Itbing  UHttljout 
3mmortaUtp? 

Is  life  worth  living?  If  we  are  in  good  health,  it  certainly 
is.  In  a  certain  sense,  even  to  ask  such  a  question  implies 
that  we  are  not  at  our  best.  It  is  the  sick,  mentally  as  well  as 
physically,  who  question  the  value  of  life.  We  cannot  ap- 
preciate health  too  highly.  Our  philosophy  of  life  is  more 
profoundly  affected  by  the  condition  of  our  body  than  we  have 
any  idea.  If  I  were  composing  a  new  set  of  beatitudes,  one 
of  them  would  be  in  exaltation  of  health  : 

Blessed  are  they  that  have  health,  for  they  shall  take 
pleasure  in  life. 

Health  also  inspires  faith  in  life.  The  first  commandment 
of  the  decalogue,  instead  of  reading,  "Thou  shalt  have  no 
other  gods  before  me"  which  is  metaphysical  and  without 
definite  meaning,  could  with  much  advantage  be  altered  to 
read: 

.  Thou  shalt  not  trifle  with  thy  health. 

How  fortunate  it  would  have  been  for  man  had  the  "Deity" 
given  that  as  his  first  and  best  thought  to  the  world!  Then, 
indeed,  would  he  have  been  the  friend  of  man.  We  cannot 
preserve  our  health  without  observing  all  the  other  command- 
ments —  of  temperance,  purity,  sanity,  self  possession,  content- 
ment, and  serenity  of  mind.  "Behold  I  bring  unto  you  health" 
ought  to  be  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation.  Give  us  that,  and 
all  the  rest  will  be  added  unto  us.  Health  is  the  foundation 
of  character.  If  the  foundation  is  insecure  —  if  we  have  in- 
herited disease  and  corruption,  we  can  be  sound,  neither  in 
our  thoughts  nor  in  our  actions.  The  time  may  come  when 
to  be  sickly  will  be  considered  a  crime.  A  revolution  in  our 
feelings  in  this  matter  is  already  taking  place.  Formerly  it 
was  thought  that  the  path  to  self-development  is  through  sor- 
row and  suffering,  and  that  the  sick  were  the  saints.  The 
3 


1 


verdict  of  science  today,  which  has  been  confirmed  by  the 
growing  experience  of  man,  is  that  pleasurable  activity  is  the 
most  wholesome  environment  for  man.  Happiness  has  upon 
human  nature  the  same  effect  that  the  sunshine  has  upon  the 
soil.  Man  is  a  failure  if  he  is  not  happy.  The  highest  ac- 
complishment is  the  ability  to  enjoy  life.  To  those  who  say 
that  service  or  usefulness  is  the  noblest  aim  of  life,  we  answer, 
"Why  should  those  who  serve  the  noblest  ends  of  life  be 
unhappy  ?" 

But  let  me  first  present  to  you  the  answer  which  one  of 
America's  best  known  psychologists,  Prof.  William  James,  of 
Harvard,  gives  to  this  most  interesting  question.  Prof.  James 
is  a  teacher  not  only  of  the  young  men  in  one  of  our  leading 
Universities,  but  his  ideas  have  become  a  part  of  the  furniture 
of  the  American  mind.  Both  his  thought  and  the  candor  with 
which  he  expresses  himself  have  secured  for  him  a  large  fol- 
lowing. Prof.  James  has  an  engaging  style.  Not  that  he  is  not 
also  a  profound  thinker,  but  his  sentences  are  as  symmetrical  as 
they  are  solid.  He  writes  to  be  understood.  That,  I  take  it, 
is  the  secret  of  the  masters  of  style.  The  gods  always  speak 
from  behind  "clouds  and  darkness."  That  explains  why  it  is 
so  difficult  to  understand  what  they  say.  But  the  great  teach- 
ers permit  no  screens,  draperies,  curtains,  or  hangings  of  any 
sort  to  come  between  them  and  the  public.  There  is  nothing 
hidden  about  their  thoughts.  Neither  do  they  speak  in  par- 
ables. Whoever  can  not  make  himself  understood  should 
hold  his  peace. 

The  parents  of  this  renowned  psychologist  were  Sweden- 
borgians,  and  I  believe  the  professor  is  still,  nominally,  at  least, 
a  member  of  the  Swedenborgian  church.  Swedenborg,  as 
you  know,  was  a  mystic;  he  was,  indeed,  a  sort  of  a  medium, 
who  claimed  to  have  seen  and  conversed  with  God  face  to  face, 
and  to  have  received  from  him  a  supplementary  revelation,  in 
some  such  sense  that  Mrs.  Eddy  or  Joseph  Smith  received 
one.  Of  course,  Swedenborg  was  also  a  philosopher,  which 
Smith  and  Eddy  are  not.  The  early  connections  and  training 
of  Prof.  James  explain  in  part  his  interest  in  the  work  of  the 
Psychical  Research  Society,  of  which  he  is  one  of  the  officers. 
So-called  spiritist  or  occult  phenomena,  such  as  automatic  slate 
writing,  table  tipping  and  telepathy,  have  always  interested 
4 


Prof.  James,  but  he  is  by  no  means  an  easy  victim,  though  he 
looks  forward  hopefully  to  the  time  when  science  will  definitely 
locate  the  undiscovered  country  whose  bourne  has  not  yet  been 
sighted. 

Some  years  ago  when  Prof.  James  and  I  were  summer 
neighbors  in  New  Hampshire — near  Chocorua  lake — I  heard 
the  professor  deliver  a  lecture  on  hypnotism  in  the  village 
church  of  Tamworth.  An  incident  occurred  at  the  time  which 
has  its  bearing  on  the  experience  our  Society  is  having  with 
the  directors  of  the  Orchestral  Association.  While  Prof.  James 
was  explaining  the  phenomena  of  hypnotism  from  the  pulpit, 
I  saw,  from  where  I  was  sitting,  an  elderly  woman  showing 
signs  of  restlessness  in  her  seat.  Presently  she  rose  to  her 
feet,  walked  up  the  aisle  slowly,  and  taking  her  stand  directly 
in  front  of  Prof.  James  on  the  platform,  she  upbraided  him  for 
desecrating  the  House  of  God  by  delivering  in  it  a  lecture 
on  hypnotism.  In  clear,  though  trembling  tones,  she  ordered 
him  out  of  the  church.  Naturally  the  professor  was  greatly 
embarrassed,  as  was  also  his  audience.  The  old  woman,  how- 
ever, was  soon  prevailed  upon  by  the  elders  of  the  church  to 
resume  her  seat  and  keep  the  peace.  But  she  was  trying  to 
oust  Prof.  James  from  the  church,  as  the  trustees  of  this 
building  are  trying  to  oust  our  Society  from  this  hall,  on  ac- 
count of  religious  differences.  The  old  woman  of  New  Hamp- 
shire was  not  successful,  and  I  trust  that  the  old  woman  of 
Chicago  will  not  fare  any  better.  To  close  a  hall  to  a  move- 
ment is  an  easy  thing,  but  to  close  the  ear  of  the  world  to  its 
message  is  not  so  easy. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  early  education  of  Prof.  James  in 
order  to  explain  the  metaphysical  bent  of  his  mind.  As  a 
psychologist,  he  has  an  international  reputation,  but  his  great- 
est vogue  is  among,  what  are  called,  the  liberal  Christians. 
The  orthodox  have  no  use  for  him,  but  to  those  who  are 
endeavoring  to  interpret  Christianity  so  as  to  make  it  harmon- 
ize with  modern  thought — who  are  filling  the  ancient  skins 
with  wine  newly  pressed — he  is  a  defender  and  a  champion  of 
the  faith.  Prof.  James  seems  to  have  discovered  a  way  by 
which  one  can  be  a  scientist  and  a  supernaturalist  at  the  same 
time.  He  appears  to  be  of  the  opinion  that  a  person  may  deny 
or  reject  many  of  the  orthodox  dogmas,  and  still  be  justified  in 

5 


calling  himself  a  Christian.  He  is,  in  fact,  one  of  the  New 
Theologians,  who  are  supposed  to  have  reconstructed  Chris- 
tianity, and  saved  the  supernatural.  For  this  service,  Prof. 
James  and  his  confreres  are  held  in  high  esteem  by  those  who 
would  have  had  to  give  up  Christianity  but  for  their  timely  help. 
In  his  lecture  on,  "Is  Life  Worth  Living,"  the  professor 
admits  that  he  is  writing  for  the  pessimists.  It  is  they  who 
are  in  the  "to  be  or  not  to  be"  mood  of  mind.  The  optimist 
does  not  need  consolation,  for  he  is  incapable  of  even  suspecting 
that  life  is  not  worth  living.  Some  temperaments  are  as  in- 
capable of  depression  or  gloom,  as  others  are  of  happiness. 
If  there  are  parts  of  the  world  on  which  the  sun  never  goes 
down,  so  there  are  natures  which  know  no  night.  We  make 
a  mistake,  however,  if  we  think  that  the  pessimist  represents  a 
lower  type  of  mental  evolution.  On  the  contrary,  pessimism 
comes  with  civilization,  and  it  generally  attacks  men  and 
women  of  a  higher  culture.  Suicide  is  rare  among  the  negroes 
or  the  less  advanced  races ;  but  in  the  United  States,  represent- 
ing the  most  perfect  type  of  civilization,  dowered  magnificently, 
and  rich  in  the  possession  of  the  treasures  of  art  and  nature; 
in  America,  the  home  of  hope  and  opportunity — with  its  im- 
mense prairies,  its  great  West,  its  army  of  earth-subduers, 
empire-builders,  large-natured,  generous,  daring,  enduring, 
restless,  resistless  pioneers — more  than  three  thousand  people 
every  year  kill  themselves.  If  we  were  to  seek  for  an  explan- 
ation of  this  strange  phenomenon,  the  nearest  we  can  come  to 
it  would  be  to  say  that  these  people  prefer  death  to  life  because 
they  do  not  find  life  worth  their  while.  There  is  not  enough  in 
it  to  satisfy  them.  To  use  an  Emersonian  phrase,  life  is  to 
them  no  more  than  "a  sucked  orange."  When  the  perfume, 
the  aroma,  the  taste,  the  tints,  and  the  juices  have  been  ex- 
tracted from  the  fruit — who  cares  for  what  is  left. 

Of  course,  these  remarks  have  no  reference  to  the  cases  of 
sudden  suicide,  committed  in  a  moment  of  frenzy — when  a  man 
driven,  as  it  were,  by  a  storm  in  the  brain,  lets  go  of  his  hold 
and  slips  into  the  darkness.  The  professor  has  in  mind 
rather  those  who  even  though  they  do  not  commit  suicide,  live 
on  reluctantly,  under  protest,  and  who  treat  life  as  we  would 
a  guest  who  has  overstaid  his  welcome,  "and  to  whose  final 
departure  we  look  forward  with  pleasure. 
6 


But  there  is  still  another  class  of  pessimists  who  need  to 
be  reasoned  with.  These  are  the  people  who  brood  over  the 
existence  of  evil  in  the  world,  and  feel  the  misery  of  the  many 
so  keenly,  that  they  think  it  involves  a  point  of  honor  to  consent 
to  be  happy  in  such  a  world.  The  contemplation  of  human  sor- 
row, the  surging  waves  of  which  break  upon  every  shore ;  and 
the  cry  of  human  anguish  rising  like  the  blind  cry  of  all  the  seas 
that  roll,  has  a  tendency  to  slacken  the  hold  of  the  reflective 
mind  upon  life.  Prof.  James  admits  that  pessimism  is  es- 
sentially a  religious  disease,  in  the  sense  that  it  results  from  the 
inability  of  man  to  entertain  two  contradictory  thoughts  at  the 
same  time :  .A  father  in  heaven,  whose  tender  mercies  are 
over  all  his  children,  and  children  dying  of  hunger  and  neglect ! 
Infinite  wisdom  enthroned  in  heaven,  and  a  world  running 
topsy-turvy.  The  refined  mind  cannot  contemplate  this  con- 
tradiction without  distress.  If  God  is  everywhere,  why  is  there 
darkness  anywhere?  If  there  is  within  reach  an  ocean  of 
truth,  why  is  it  doled  out  to  us  in  driblets  which  hardly  wet 
our  lips,  when  we  are  burning  with  thirst?  Religion  provokes 
desires  which  it  cannot  satisfy,  and  makes  promises  which  it 
will  not  fulfil.  It  is  this  contradiction  which  bites  the  soul 
black  and  blue.  God  is  infinite !  and  behold  we  are  starving. 
God  is  light!  and  we  grope  in  darkness.  God  is  great!  and 
we  cannot  budge  without  crutches.  It  is  this  thought  which 
teases  us  out  of  our  peace  of  mind.  The  idea  of  a  God, 
gifted  with  infinite  parts,  measured  against  the  helplessness 
of  man,  makes  for  pessimism. 

But  in  the  opinion  of  Prof.  James,  religion  alone  can  cure 
the  disease  which  religion  creates.  By  religion,  he  does  not 
mean  merely  loving  one's  neighbor  and  being  loyal  to  one's 
best  thoughts.  Religion,  according  to  Prof.  James,  means  the 
belief  that  beyond  this  present  life,  "there  is  an  unseen  world 
of  which  we  now  know  nothing  positive  but  in  its  relation  to 
which  the  significance  of  our  mundane  life  consists."  If  this 
is  the  first  act  of  an  unending  drama,  it  would  have  great 
worth  and  significance,  but  if  it  is  a  detached  and  disconnected 
piece,  upon  which  the  curtain  will  soon  fall  never  to  rise  again 
— if  it  is  never  going  to  be  finished — it  loses,  according  to  Prof. 
James,  its  seriousness.  In  other  words,  it  is  the  belief  that 
man  is  an  eternal  being  whom  no  catastrophe  can  crush  or 

7 


annihilate,  which  makes  our  present  existence  worth  while, 
and  which  also  reconciles  us  to  the  discipline  of  pain  and  evil. 
Life  is  worth  living,  in  short,  if  man  is  immortal.  This  is 
the  drift  of  Prof.  James'  teaching,  as  it  is  also  that  of  all 
supernaturalists. 

What  evidence  does  the  professor  offer  to  prove  the  ex- 
istence of  an  unseen  world  and  the  immortality  of  man?  He 
offers  none.  He  admits  that  science  has  not  as  yet  demon- 
strated the  reality  of  an  invisible  world.  Perhaps  it  never 
will,  but  what  of  that?  "You  have  got  a  right  to  believe  in 
an  unseen  world,"  declares  the  professor.  Is  it  not  inter- 
esting? It  will  be  seen  that  if  the  professor  has  no  evidence, 
he  has  many  arguments.  One  of  his  arguments  is  that,  since, 
we  must  either  believe  or  disbelieve  in  a  future  life,  neutrality 
in  the  matter  being  an  unattainable  thing,  why  not  take  our 
choice,  and  while  we  are  at  it,  choose  immortality.  Another 
argument  is,  that  as  our  longings  and  yearnings  in  other  direc- 
tions have  turned  out  to  be  prophetic,  we  have  every  reason 
to  believe  that  the  desire  for  eternal  life  also  will  be  fulfilled. 
Art,  science,  music,  health,  have  come  to  us  because  of  an 
inner  impulse  which  prompted  us  to  go  after  them.  A  similar 
impulse  urges  us  to  seek  the  divine,  which  is  a  sort  of  proof 
that  the  divine  exists.  Still  another  argument  is  this :  All  the 
great  successes  or  achievements  of  life  came  as  a  result  of  the 
courage  that  takes  risks.  Without  audacity,  man  would  never 
have  crossed  the  ocean,  or  invented  the  aeroplane.  If  the 
belief  in  immortality  requires  the  taking  of  risks,  if  it  is 
hazardous  even  to  hold  it,  we  should  not  hesitate  on  that 
account,  since  some  of  the  best  things  have  come  to  us  by  taking 
risks.  Start  out  for  God  and  immortality;  and  some  day  you 
may  cast  anchor  in  the  shining  waters  that  lap  the  shores  of  a 
divine  continent.  "We  are  free  to  trust  at  our  own  risk  any- 
thing that  is  not  impossible,"  concludes  the  professor.  Finally, 
there  is  the  argument  from  analogy,  which  I  may  explain  by 
a  personal  experience.  In  the  Pasteur  Institute  in  Paris,  last 
summer,  I  saw  in  the  vivisection  room,  physicians  in  their 
white  aprons,  operating  upon  live  rabbits,  cutting  and  dissecting 
them,  while  the  helpless  creatures  were  so  fastened  to  the  tables 
that  they  could  not  move  a  muscle.  Now  all  this  must  seem 
very  cruel  to  the  rabbit.  It  must  think  the  physician  a  butcher, 
8 


devoid  of  all  feeling,  or  justice,  and  it  must  perforce  denounce 
the  world  in  which  such  wanton  torture  is  inflicted  by  the  strong 
upon  the  weak.  But  if  the  rabbit  could  take  a  larger  view,  if 
it  could  be  made  to  see  that  its  sufferings  are  contributing  to 
the  progress  of  science  and  the  amelioration  of  the  conditions 
of  life  upon  this  planet,  and  thereby  helping  to  hasten  the  day 
when  disease  shall  be  conquered,  would  it  not  be  reconciled  to 
the  physician's  knife  and  the  operating  table?  The  larger 
view  which  would  embrace  the  world  unseen  will  help  to  give 
to  evil,  suffering  and  misery,  which  now  we  do  not  understand, 
a  raison  d'etre.  The  part  of  wisdom  as  well  as  of  courage  then, 
is  to  "believe  what  is  in  the  line  of  our  needs,  for  only  by  the 
belief  is  the  need  fulfilled.  Refuse  to  believe,  and  you  shall 
indeed  be  right,  for  you  shall  irretrievably  perish.  But  believe, 
and  again  you  shall  be  right,  for  you  shall  save  yourself." 
It  will  be  seen  by  what  has  preceded,  that  Prof.  James 
of  Harvard  University,  throws  the  weight  of  his  influence 
on  the  side  of  those  who  have  always  maintained  that  God  and 
immortality  are  indispensable  to  the  happiness  of  man.  In  his 
opinion,  what  a  man  would  be  if  deprived  of  his  reason,  the 
universe  would  be  if  deprived  of  a  God,  and  life,  of  a  future 
existence.  The  eminent  psychologist  takes  the  further  position 
that  it  is  immaterial  whether  or  not  there  is  any  evidence  to 
prove  the  existence  of  a  God  or  of  a  life  after  death.  If  the 
belief  is  essential  to  our  happiness  and  usefulness,  he  thinks 
we  have  got  the  right  to  entertain  it,  irrespective  of  the  question 
of  evidence.  "If  there  is  a  belief  of  any  kind  to  which  you 
have  taken  a  special  fancy,  or  one  that  you  feel  like  crying  for," 
the  professor  seems  to  say,  "help  yourself  to  it;  you  have 
only  yourself  to  suit."  Even  if  such  a  belief  should  involve 
an  element  of  risk,  we  are  urged  to  take  the  risk.  If  it  re- 
quires audacity  even  to  believe  in  a  God  and  immortality,  we 
are  told  to  have  the  audacity.  It  is  his  idea  that  when  we  are 
dealing  with  the  unknown,  the  important  thing  is  the  heart's 
desire,  and  not  the  question  of  evidence.  In  passing,  I  might 
suggest  that  Prof.  James  would  never  have  thought  of  pushing 
aside  with  such  nonchalance,  the  question  of  evidence,  were  it 
not  for  an  irrepressible  suspicion  that  the  evidence  is  against 
him.  He  hopes  to  do  without  the  evidence  because  the  evi- 
dence will  not  help  him.  This  reminds  us  of  the  saying  of  the 
9 


philosopher  Hobbes,  that,  men  are  generally  against  reason 
when  reason  is  against  them. 

As  already  intimated,  the  liberal  party  in  the  church  regards 
Prof.  James  as  a  defender  of  the  faith.  He  is  classed  with  such 
men  as  Sir  Oliver  Lodge  and  Lord  Kelvin,  who  though  scien- 
tists still  believe  in  the  supernatural,  and  by  their  example  have 
made  such  a  belief  respectable.  It  must  be  borne  in  mind, 
however,  that  these  distinguished  men  are  Christians  only,  if 
at  all,  in  a  very  loose  sense  of  the  word.  All  the  cardinal  doc- 
trines of  revelation,  such  as  the  creation,  the  atonement,  the 
incarnation,  and  a  personal  God — even  one,  to  say  nothing  of 
a  trinity — they  reject.  These  gentlemen  have  not  enough 
faith  to  be  baptised  to-day,  had  they  not  been  baptised  in  their 
childhood, — or  to  be  received  into  any  Christian  church  without 
greatly  stretching  the  rules  in  their  behalf.  It  remains  then 
quite  true,  and  the  argument  has  not  yet  been  answered,  that 
there  is  not  a  single  eminent  thinker  in  the  world  to-day  who 
will  subscribe  to  the  creed  of  Christendom  without  first  going 
through  it  with  a  blue  pencil,  or  a  pair  of  scissors.  But  Prof. 
James,  as  also  Lodge  and  Kelvin,  if  they  are  not  supernatural- 
ists  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word,  neither  are  they  anti- 
supernaturalists.  They  are  between  and  betwixt,  if  I  may  use 
that  phrase — not  quite  ready  to  part  with  supernaturalism 
altogether,  nor  yet  able  to  hold  on  to  it  in  its  entirety,  and  so 
they  linger  somewhere  on  the  borders  or  the  edge  of  it. 

The  first  remark  I  have  to  make  on  the  position  of  these 
newly  recruited  defenders  of  supernaturalism — even  though  the 
supernaturalism  which  they  defend  be  of  the  attenuated  kind — 
is,  that  their  argument  is  not  even1  an  improvement  on  that  of 
the  theologian.  I  like  the  dogmatic  and  autocratic,  "thus 
saith  the  Lord,"  of  theology,  much  better  than  the  "suit  your- 
self" of  these  gentlemen.  The  one  position  is  as  destructive  of 
intellectual  integrity,  as  the  other.  The  theologian  starts  with 
the  fallacy  that  God  can  make  a  thing  true  by  an  act  of  his 
will — that  his  say  so  makes  all  need  of  evidence  superfluous. 
Prof.  James  and  the  men  of  his  school  start  with  a  proposition 
equally  fatal  to  the  truth — namely ;  that  whatever  we  wish  to  be 
true  concerning  the  unknown  is  true.  All  that  is  needed,  for 
instance,  to  give  the  universe  a  God  is  to  wish  for  one.  All 
that  is  necessary  to  make  a  man  immortal  is  to  desire  and 
10 


believe  that  he  is.  "The  Will  to  Believe,"  which  is  the  title 
of  one  of  the  professor's  writings,  makes  truth  the  creature  of 
man,  as  theology  makes  it  the  creature  of  God.  You  see  that 
after  all,  the  theologian  and  the  "scientific"  supernaturalist 
pull  together.  That  is  to  say,  when  science  lends  itself  to 
theology,  it  ceases  to  be  scientific.  It  is  not  theology  that  goes 
over  to  science,  but  science  that  goes  over  to  theology.  As 
soon  as  science  appears  at  the  camp  of  theology,  it  is  forthwith 
swallowed  up.  When  Prof.  James  speaks  of  the  "will  to  be- 
lieve," and  never  mind  the  evidence,  he  is  borrowing  from 
theology,  the  "will  to  create"  of  God. 

Even  as  the  Deity  in  creating  did  not  have  to  consider  any- 
thing but  his  glory  and  pleasure,  likewise  man  in  believing  does 
not  have  to  consider  anything  but  his  needs  and  desires.  Ask, 
"What  is  Truth  ?"  and  the  theologian  answers :  "Whatever  God 
wants  it  to  be."  Ask  now  the  scientist  allies  of  the  super- 
natural, "What  is  Truth,"  and  they  answer:  "Whatever  man 
desires  or  craves  it  to  be."  Of  course,  it  may  be  objected 
that  it  is  only  concerning  the  unknown  that  man  is  permitted 
to  dispense  with  evidence  and  consult  his  will.  But  there  is 
no  merit,  for  instance,  in  a  man  not  telling  any  falsehoods 
where  he  is  sure  of  being  found  out;  his  character  is  tested 
by  his  refusal  to  lie  where  he  is  sure  he  never  will  be  found 
out.  It  is  concerning  the  unknown  about  which  we  can  say 
anything  and  everything  we  please  without  the  fear  of  ever 
being  caught,  that  we  should  restrain  ourselves  and  show  our 
loyalty  to  the  everlasting  law  of  honor,  never  to  depart  from 
veracity.  To  make  any  assertions  about  the  unknown  is  to 
take  an  undue  advantage  of  one's  neighbors,"  "Truth  is  not 
mine  to  do  with  it  as  I  please,"  said  Giordano  Bruno,  "I  must 
obey  the  truth,  not  command  it."  But  the  theologico-scientific 
position  is  the  very  reverse  of  this.  If  a  god  were  to  ask  the 
question,  "What  is  Truth?"  His  priests  would  answer,  "Lord, 
suit  thyself."  If  men  asked,  "What  is  Truth?"  the  Harvard 
professor  and  his  colleagues  would  reply,  "It  depends  upon 
your  will  to  believe." 

The  name  given  to  this  "free  and  easy  philosophy,"  if  I 

may  use  such  an  expression — is  pragmatism,  which  is  a  word 

from  the  Greek  root  pragmatikos,  whence  our  word  "practice" 

and  "practical."    The  idea  at  the  basis  of  this  philosophy  is  that 

II 


whatever  is  practical  and  business-like — whatever  is  necessary 
to  a  given  program,  is  authoritative.  The  philosopher,  Kant, 
was  one  of  the  first  to  urge  that  we  have  a  right  to  believe  as 
we  please  concerning  the  things  which  we  can  neither  prove 
nor  disprove  by  evidence,  if  such  beliefs  are  necessary  to  mor- 
ality. His  modern  disciples  following  his  leadership,  take  the 
position  that  it  is  the  usefulness  of  a  hypothesis  or  a  belief, 
and  not  its  truth,  that  should  concern  us.  "Does  it  work,"  is 
the  test,  they  say,  of  the  value  of  a  scheme  or  statement,  and 
not,  "Is  it  true?"  If  it  works,  what  do  we  care  whether  or 
not  it  be  true.  If  it  does  not  work,  it  is  of  no  help  to  us  even 
if  it  were  true.  This  is  identically  the  same  argument  which  is 
advanced  by  the  Roman  Catholics,  to  justify  for  instance,  the 
belief  in  the  existence,  somewhere  in  the  universe,  of  a  place 
called  purgatory.  "The  doctrine  of  purgatory  works,"  argues 
the  priest,  and  therefore,  it  makes  no  difference  whether  or 
not  such  a  place  really  exists.  It  is  a  useful,  consoling  and 
profitable  doctrine.  Therefore  it  is  as  good  as  true.  In  the 
phraseology  of  pragmatism,  millions  of  people  want  a  purga- 
tory, therefore,  there  is  one.  And  once  again,  to  the  question, 
"What  is  Truth,"  the  answer  of  both  the  theologian  and  the 
pragmatist  is,  "Do  not  bother  about  it."  And  this  describes 
the  attitude  of  the  Protestant  as  well  as  of  the  Catholic  toward 
truth.  They  do  not  bother  about  it.  Yes,  they  do  not  bother 
about  it.  That  is  why  progress  limps  and  the  darkness  lingers. 
People  have  been  brought  up  not  to  bother  about  truth,  which 
explains  why  error  is  still  king  of  more  than  half  of  the  world. 
I  cannot  find  the  words — all  words  fail  me  to  express  my 
disappointment  that  a  teacher  of  the  youth  in  one  of  our 
great  institutions,  who  are  to  be  the  America  of  tomorrow, 
should  in  any  way  contribute  to  the  impression  that  truth  is 
secondary;  that  our  needs,  our  interests,  our  inclinations,  or 
our  whims,  come  first,  and  that  if  we  have  not  the  courage  to 
look  the  truth  in  the  face,  we  can  turn  around  and  make  terms 
with  myth  and  fable. 

If  we  were  disposed  to  trip  the  professor,  or  by  one  single 
thrust  to  disqualify  him  for  further  action  in  the  arena  of 
thought,  we  could  say  that  even  from  the  point  of  view  of 
the  pragmatist,  truth  comes  first,  and  that  by  no  imaginable 
manceuvreing  can  truth  be  shifted  to  a  subordinate  rank. 

12 


It  cannot  be  done.  Listen !  You  may  not  have  to  prove 
the  existence  of  a  God,  or  of  a  future,  or  of  a  purgatory, 
before  believing  in  it.  Granted:  but  you  have  to  prove  and 
you  are  trying  to  prove,  that  it  is  true  that  you  do  not  have 
to  prove  them.  Even  pragmatists  who  say  that  utility  is  be- 
fore truth,  labor  to  prove  that  it  is  true  that  utility  is  before 
truth.  In  other  words,  they  have  got  to  prove  the  truth  of 
their  theory,  whatever  that  may  be,  before  they  can  make  it 
have  any  value,  or  before  it  can  command  our  respect.  Things 
have  to  be  true  else  they  cannot  exist.  All  the  labor  of  Prof. 
James  has  for  its  object  the  demonstration  of  what  he  considers 
to  be  a  truth,  namely:  that  the  truth  of  the  belief  concerning 
the  unknown  is  not  essential.  In  other  words,  God  may  be  true 
or  not,  a  future  life  may  be  true  or  not,  but  it  has  to  be 
true  that  it  makes  no  difference  whether  they  are  true  or  not. 
Wiggle  as  we  may,  we  cannot  escape  the  ring  of  reason  that 
embraces  life.  This  is  what  I  mean  when  I  say  that  the  stars 
fight  for  Rationalism.  Truth  is  so  tightly  screwed  and  made 
fast  to  the  top  of  the  flag-pole  that  even  hands  of  iron  and 
steel  cannot  pull  it  down  to  a  lower  notch. 

A  second  remark  I  would  make  on  Prof.  James'  manner  of 
reasoning  is  that  such  arguments  as  he  uses  to  prop  up  the 
belief  in  God  and  immortality  show,  not  confidence,  but  des- 
peration, if  it  is  not  too  strong  a  word  to  use.  Urging  us  to 
take  risks,  to  have  the  audacity,  to  ignore  the  question  of  evi- 
dence, to  suit  ourselves,  and,  not  to  mind  the  facts,  is  not  the 
language  of  sobriety,  but  of  recklessness.  To  say  to  a  man 
standing  on  the  edge  of  a  precipice  and  looking  down  into  a 
chasm  of  unknown  depth  and  darkness,  to  jump  over,  because, 
perchance,  he  may  discover  his  heart's  desire  at  the  bottom,  is 
frantic  advice,  and  a  man  has  to  be  in  a  panicy  state  of  mind 
to  let  go  of  the  sun  and  of  the  green  earth  for  a  possible  world 
at  the  bottom  of  the  abyss.  It  was  a  thought  of  Emerson  that 
the  humblest  bug  crawling  in  the  dust  with  its  back  to  the  sun, 
and  shining  with  the  colors  of  the  rainbow,  is  a  thing  more 
sublime  than  any  possible  angel.  If  there  were  the  slightest 
foundation  for  the  belief  in  an  unseen  world,  no  one  would 
think  of  resorting  to  such  extreme  measures  as  our  learned 
professor  does,  to  uphold  it.  When  I  see  a  man  huffing  and 
13 


puffing,  I  do  not  conclude  that  he  has  a  strong  case,  on  the 
contrary,  I  am  apt  to  suspect  that  it  is  the  weakness  of  his 
cause  which  has  disturbed  his  serenity.  To  tell  us  that  we 
can  will  ourselves  immortal,  or  will  God  into  existence,  and 
that  all  we  need  is  the  audacity  to  plunge  into  the  unknown, 
whatever  the  risks,  reminds  me  of  La  Fontaine's  parable  of 
the  frog — who  thought  he  could  will  himself  into  the  size  of  a 
cow — with  fatal  results.  The  beginning  of  wisdom  is  to  recog- 
nize one's  limitations.  To  tell  a  man  that  he  can  will  things 
into  existence  is  to  do  him  an  injury.  Pitiful  is  the  God,  and 
chimerical  the  immortality  that  has  no  better  foundation  than 
the  whim  of  man. 

According  to  the  doctrine  of  "The  will  to  believe"  there 
would  be  no  God  if  there  were  no  men  to  "will"  his  ex- 
istence, and  no  immortality  if  men  did  not  desire  it.  This  is 
theology  dressed  up  as  philosophy  or  science.  How  was  the 
world  made?  And  the  theologians  answer,  God  said,  "Let 
there  be  light,  and  there  was  light."  How  was  God  made? 
And  the  pragmatists  answer,  "Man  said,  let  there  be  a  God, 
and  there  was  one."  This  is  trifling.  If  the  word  is  not  too 
harsh,  I  shall  call  it  sophistry,  or  mental  gymnastics,  to  which 
men  never  resort  except  when  straight  reasoning  will  not  help 
them. 

Sophistry  is  a  plea  of  guilty.  I  was  debating  the  other 
evening  in  a  Milwaukee  theater  on  the  question  of  the  respon- 
sibility for  the  burning  of  Joan  of  Arc.  While  listening  to  the 
defense  of  the  gentleman  who  was  trying  to  prove  that  the 
Catholic  Church  was  not  responsible  for  her  martyrdom,  I 
said  to  myself  that  such  a  defense  would  never  have  been 
thought  of  were  it  not  for  the  fact  that  the  old  claim  that  the 
church  of  God  cannot  err  had  not  broken  down.  In  the  same 
way  the  defense  that  the  bible  should  be  taken  allegorically, 
proves  that  the  old  position  that  the  bible  is  from  cover  to  cover 
the  word  of  God  with  every  letter  and  punctuation,  as  well  as 
word  and  meaning  inspired,  is  no  longer  tenable.  To  say  that 
the  bible  must  not  be  taken  literally  is  but  another  way  of  say- 
ing that  the .  bible  is  not  true,  or  that  you  can  make  it  mean 
what  you  please.  Men  never  put  up  such  a  defense  for  any- 
thing unless  they  are  driven  to  it  by  sheer  desperation. 

My  third  remark  on  the  pragmatic  philosophy  of  Professor 
14 


James  is  that,  besides  doing  violence  to  our  reason,  his  doc- 
trine that  an  unseen  world  is  indispensable  to  make  life  worth 
living,  or  to  help  make  the  world  moral,  places  man  not  only 
in  an  unenviable  light,  but  it  also  does  him  a  great  injustice. 
If  it  is  true  that  a  man  will  make  a  beast  of  himself  if  he  finds 
out  that  he  is  not  a  God,  I  take  the  position  that  he  is  beyond 
hope.  Nothing  can  save  him.  But  it  is  not  true.  It  is  a 
priestly  tale  that  a  man  will  not  behave  himself  unless  we  can 
promise  him  the  moon,  or  the  sun,  or  eternity.  A  man  would 
only  be  a  contemptible  animal  if  he  must  be  given  toys  and 
trinkets  and  sawdust  dolls  to  divert  his  attention  from  mis- 
chief. The  claim  of  the  preachers  that  unless  men  are  assured 
of  black-eyed  houris  and  golden  harps,  or  at  least, — some  sort 
of  a  ghostly  existence, — somewhere  and  at  sometime  in  the 
future,  they  will  convert  life  into  a  debauch,  is  simply  a  false- 
hood. Man  is  not  so  depraved  as  that.  Indeed,  the  doctrine 
of  total  depravity  was  invented  by  the  priests  to  create  a  de- 
mand for  the  offices  of  the  church.  The  priest  cannot  afford 
to  believe  in  human  nature.  If  a  man  can  save  himself,  or 
if  he  can  do  good  by  his  own  effort,  what  need  would  there 
be  of  the  mysteries  and  the  sacraments, — the  rites  and  the 
dogmas  ? 

I  had  occasion  to  tell  you  a  few  Sundays  ago  that  if  a  lily 
can  be  white,  or  a  rose  so  wondrous  fair,  or  a  dog  so  loyal 
and  heroic,  without  dickering  with  the  universe  for  a  future 
reward,  man  can  do,  at  least,  as  much.  Would  this  be  ex- 
pecting too  muth  of  him  ? 

In  France,  there  is,  in  one  of.the  close-by  suburbs  of  Paris, 
a  cemetery  for  dogs.  Of  course,  no  priest  or  pastor  would 
think  of  officiating  at  the  interment  of  a  dog,  however  useful 
or  faithful  the  animal  may  have  been.  They  are  brought 
here  by  their  owners  and  quietly  buried.  The  visitor  finds 
here,  however,  many  tokens  of  appreciation  and  gratitude  for 
the  services  and  value  of  the  dog  to  man.  Little  monuments 
are  raised  over  the  remains  of  some  of  the  occupants  of  the 
modest  graves.  One  of  these  bears  the  inscription:  "He 
saved  forty  lives,  and  lost  his  own  in  the  attempt  to  save  the 
forty-first."  He  did  his  best  without  the  hope  of  a  future 
reward.  Is  man  lower  than  the  animal?  Does  he  require  the 
help  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  holy  angels,  the  holy  Trinity,  the 
15 


holy  infallible  church,  and  all  the  terrors  of  hell  fire  to  make 
him  prefer  sense  to  nonsense,  cleanliness  to  dirt,  honor  to  dis- 
grace, the  respect  of  his  fellows  to  their  contempt,  and  a  peace- 
ful mind  to  one  full  of  scorpions?  Do  we  have  to  swing  into 
existence  fabled  and.  mythical  beings  and  worlds  before  we 
can  induce  a  human  being  to  be  as  natural  as  a  plant  and  as 
faithful  as  a  dog?  The  doctrine  of  total  depravity  is  a  dis- 
grace to  those  who  have  invented  it,  and  a  blight  to  those  who 
believe  in  it.  It  is  not  true  that  we  have  to  be  put  through 
acrobatic  exercises, — make  our  reason  turn  somersaults,  resort 
to  sophistry, — become  frantic  with  fear  about  our  future, — 
postulate  the  existence  of  ghosts,  Gods,  and  celestial  abodes  • 
before  we  can  prefer  the  good  to  the  bad  and  the  light  to 
darkness.  Supernaturalism  is  both  negative  and  destructive. 
It  denies  goodness,  and  it  destroys  in  man  the  power  of  self- 
help.  Von  Humboldt's  indignation  seems  pardonable,  when  he 
used  the  word  "infamous,"  to  characterize  the  theologian's 
attempt  to  make  the  well-being  of  the  human  race  depend 
upon  such  supernatural  gossip  as  he  had  to  market 

And  what  is  the  verdict  of  history  on  this  question  ?  Does 
the  belief  in  God  and  immortality  make  for  morality?  How 
then  shall  we  explain  the  dark  ages  which  were  ages  of  faith, 
and  why  are  not  the  Moslems,  whose  faith  in  Allah  and  in  a 
future  life  is  very  much  stronger  than  ours,  a  more  moral 
people  than  the  Europeans  or  Americans?  Why  was  King 
Leopold,  the  Christian,  a  moral  leper  to  the  hour  of  his  death, 
while  Socrates,  the  pagan,  who  was  uncertain  about  the  future, 
has  perfumed  the  centuries  with  his  virtues?  Has  the  belief 
in  the  supernatural  prevented  the  criminal  waste  of  human  life, 
protected  the  child  from  the  sweat-shop  and  the  factory,  or 
even  robbed  religion  of  its  sting — the  sting  whose  bite  is  mor- 
tal to  tolerance,  brotherhood  and  intellectual  honesty?  There 
are  excellent  people  who  believe  in  the  supernatural  arid  equally 
excellent  people  who  ignore  the  supernatural,  from  which  it 
would  follow  that  excellence  of  character  is  independent  of 
one's  speculations  about  either  the  eternal  past,  or  the  eternal 
future.  It  is  not  true  then  that  we  have  to  prove  to  man  that 
he  has  always  existed,  or  that  he  shall  always  exist  before 
we  can  make  him  see  that  the  sunset  is  beautiful,  or  that  the 
sea  is  vast,  or  that  love  is  the  greatest  thing  in  the  world. 
16 


A  man  will  be  careful  of  his  health  whether  he  expects  to 
live  again  or  not.  He  will  avoid  headaches,  fevers,  colds, 
anaemia,  nervous  prostrations  and  diseases  of  every  kind 
which  rack  the  body  and  make  life  a  misery,  irrespective  of 
his  attitude  to  the  question  of  survival  after  death.  The  ques- 
tion of  health,  then,  which  is  a  very  important  one,  is  inde- 
pendent of  any  supernatural  belief.  It  would  not  affect  our 
health  a  particle  were  the  heavens  empty  or  full  of  gods.  In 
the  same  way,  men  will  continue  the  culture  of  the  mind  irre- 
spective of  theological  beliefs.  Will  a  man  neglect  the  pleas- 
ures of  the  mind,  despise  knowledge  and  remain  content  in 
his  ignorance,  if  he  cannot  be  sure  that  he  is  going  to  live 
forever?  But  if  neither  the  culture  of  the  body  nor  that  of 
the  mind  is  in  danger  of  being  neglected,  is  there  any  reason 
to  fear  that  the  culture  of  the  affections  and  the  conscience 
will  suffer  without  a  belief  in  an  unseen  world?  We  have 
only  to  look  into  the  motives  which  govern  human  actions  to 
recover  our  confidence  in  the  essential  soundness  of  human 
nature,  and  in  the  ability  of  morality  to  take  care  of  itself 
without  the  help  of  ghosts  and  gods.  You  love  your  country 
and  you  are  willing  to  defend  its  institutions,  if  need  be,  with 
your  life,  but  is  it  because  your  country  is  immortal?  Is 
America  going  to  live  forever?  Is  it  going  to  have  a  future 
existence?  And  yet  Washington  and  his  soldiers  loved  it 
dearly  and  risked  their  lives  for  it.  Were  the  ancient  Greeks 
and  Romans,  to  whom  patriotism  was  a  religion,  and  who 
loved  and  fought  for  their  country — fools,  because  they  did 
not  first  make  sure  that  their  country  was  going  to  live  for- 
ever? You  are  devoted  to  art,  you  have  built  palaces  for  the 
treasures  of  the  brush  and  the  chisel.  You  have  paid  fabulous 
prices  for  the  works  of  a  Rembrandt  and  a  Titian.  Is  it  be- 
cause these  paintings  are  never  going  to  perish?  Is  the  can- 
vas which  you  adore,  immortal?  You  prize  the  works  of 
genius — of  a  Shakespeare,  a  Goethe,  a  Voltaire,  a  Darwin. 
You  have  edifices  of  marble  and  steel  in  which  to  house  the 
great  books  of  the  world.  And  yet  a  fire  tomorrow  may  wipe 
them  out  of  existence — they  may  become  lost,  as  many  great 
works  have  been  lost  in  the  past.  Nevertheless,  are  they  not 
precious  while  we  have  them  ?  If  a  humane  society  will  inter- 
est itself  in  the  welfare  of  the  horse  and  the  cat  and  the  dog, 
17 


which  live  but  a  few  years ;  if  the  flower  which  blooms  in  the 
morning  and  fades  in  the  evening  can  command  our  attention 
and  devotion — must  a  man  be  a  god  before  we  can  take  any 
interest  in  him  ?  Must  somebody  be  always  whispering  in  our 
ears,  "Ye  are  gods;  ye  are  gods,"  to  prevent  us  from  doing 
violence  to  ourselves  or  to  our  fellows  ?  And  men  seek  health 
for  the  present,  not  for  the  future.  And  they  cultivate  the 
mind  to  make  life  richer  now  and  here.  And  love  is  desired 
because  it  makes  each  passing  moment  a  thrill  and  an  ecstacy. 
What  then  is  the  value  of  any  speculation  about  the  unseen 
world,  since  man  can  care  for  his  body,  mind  and  heart,  with- 
out venturing  out  on  an  ocean  for  which  he  has  neither  the 
sails  nor  the  compass? 

But  the  unseen  world  is  necessary,  the  professor  seems  to 
think,  in  order  to  explain  the  suffering  and  the  injustice  in 
this.  In  my  opinion,  such  a  belief  has  done  more  to  postpone 
the  reform  of  present  abuses  than  anything  else.  The  time 
to  suppress  injustice  and  to  relieve  human  suffering  is  now, 
not  in  some  distant  future, — here  and  not  in  an  undiscovered 
country.  The  belief  in  God  has  tempted  man  to  shirk  his 
responsibilities.  He  has  left  many  things  to  be  done  by  God 
which  he  should  have  done  himself.  It  is  a  nobler  religion 
that  tells  man  to  do  all  he  can  now,  and  to  do  it  himself. 
Moreover,  how  can  what  is  wrong  here  be  made  right  in  the 
next  world?  What,  for  instance,  can  make  Joan  of  Arc's 
atrocious  murder — a  girl  of  nineteen,  who  had  saved  her 
country,  roasted  over  a  slow  fire — right  in  heaven?  What 
explanation  can  the  Deity  give  to  us  which  shall  reconcile  us 
to  so  infamous  a  crime.  A  million  eternities,  it  seems  to  me, 
cannot  alter  the  character  of  that  act.  The  deed  cannot  be 
undone.  That  frightful  page  cannot  be  torn  from  the  book 
of  life.  You  cannot  destroy  the  memory  of  that  injustice; 
you  cannot  rub  so  foul  a  stain  from  the  hands  of  even  a  God. 
Suppose  God  were  to  say  to  us  in  the  next  world  that  this 
crime  was  necessary  to  the  progress  of  civilization.  Would 
that  satisfy  us?  Would  we  not  still  wish  for  a  God  who 
could  have  contributed  to  the  progress  of  civilization  without 
resorting  to  so  unspeakable  a  murder?  And  there  you  are. 
Another  world  can  never  reconcile  us  to  a  policy  that  required 
18 


the  commission  of  crimes  whose  stench  rises  to  our  nostrils. 
What  is  wrong  can  never  be  made  right. 

You  remember  that  to  illustrate  the  thought  of  Professor 
James,  I  spoke  of  my  visit  to  the  Pasteur  Institute  in  Paris, 
where,  in  the  vivisection  hall,  I  saw  the  physicians  operating 
on  live  rabbits.  Professor  James  thinks  that  if  the  rabbit  could 
see  everything,  it  might  say  to  the  physician,  "Thy  will  be 
done."  But  the  rabbit  might  also  say  this :  "It  is  well  to 
advance  science  and  civilization;  and  if  it  is  a  part  of  the 
scheme  to  make  me  contribute  to  it  by  my  sufferings,  I  am 
resigned;  but  what  about  the  character  of  the  schemer  who 
must  torture  to  death  some  of  his  creatures — slaughter  with 
excruciating  pain  a  portion  of  his  family — in  order  to  make 
secure  the  lives  of  the  rest?"  The  existence  of  evil  in  a  world 
created  by  a  perfect  God  is  the  rock  upon  which  all  religions 
go  to  pieces.  If  God  can  prevent  misery  and  crime,  but  pre- 
fers to  work  through  them,  he  is  to  be  feared;  if  he  cannot 
help  himself,  then  he  is  to  be  pitied.  Who  would  not  rather 
be  the  rabbit  on  the  operating  table,  with  the  knife  in  his 
flesh,  than  such  a  God !  A  God  who  cannot  make  a  rose  red 
except  by  dipping  it  in  human  blood  can  be  sure  that  no 
human  being  would  ever  envy  him  his  office.  On  the  last 
day  of  judgment,  if  such  a  day  there  be,  it  will  not  be  the 
rabbit,  or  man,  who  will  fear  the  opening  of  the  books ;  it  will 
be  God. 

And  how  do  we  know  that  things  will  be  better  in  the  un- 
seen world  ?  Suppose  they  should  be  worse  ?  Jesus  intimated 
that  the  next  world  would  be  worse,  for  he  says  in  Matthew 
7:13-14,  "Wide  is  the  gate,  and  broad  is  the  way,  that  leadeth 
to  destruction,  and  many  there  be  which  go  in  thereat ;  because 
straight  is  the  gate,  and  narrow  is  the  way,  which  leadeth 
unto  life,  and  few  there  be  that  find  it." 

Surely  this  is  not  an  encouraging  prospect.  A  future  which 
offers  happiness  to  a  small  minority  cannot  be  looked  forward 
to  with  enthusiasm.  Neither  is  the  thought  of  a  few  saved 
and  the  many  damned  a  consolation.  One  of  the  oft-repeated 
claims  is  that  the  belief  in  God  and  immortality  is  such  a 
happiness  that  he  must  be  an  enemy  of  his  race  who  would 
deprive  people  of  it.  Even  Rationalists  are  said  to  envy  the 
believer  his  peace  of  mind.  But  the  truth  is  the  very  opposite 
19 


of  this.  There  is  abundant  testimony  to  prove  that  of  all  peo- 
ple the  real  and  consistent  believer  is  the  most  unhappy  being 
in  the  world.  The  proverbial  unhappiness  of  the  Rationalist, 
like  the  proverbial  death-bed  horrors  of  a  Thomas  Paine  and 
a  Voltaire,  is  a  pure  fabrication.  While  there  is  absolutely 
nothing  in  Rationalism  to  make  anybody  miserable,  since  it 
does  away  with  fear,  which  is  the  only  thing  to  fear, 
Orthodoxy,  on  the  other  hand,  starts  by  not  only  call- 
ing this  a  vale  of  tears,  but  proceeds  forthwith  to  make 
it  so.  If  we  were  to  place  the  greatest  known  Chris- 
tian saints  on  the  stand  to  interrogate  them  on  this  subject, 
they  would  one  and  all  confirm  our  statement.  Listen,  for 
instance,  to  the  confession  of  Thomas  A'Kempis :  "Lord,  I 

am  not  worthy  of  thy  consolation Thou  dealest  justly 

with  me  when  thou  leavest  me  poor  and  desolate,  for  if  I  could 
shed  tears  as  the  sea,  yet  should  I  not  be  worthy  of  thy  con- 
solation. I  am  worthy  only  to  be  scourged  and  punished. "f 
These  are  not  the  words  of  a  buoyant  and  happy  soul.  And 
listen  to  the  lamentation  of  John  Bunyan :  "Sometimes  I  could 
for  whole  days  together  feel  my  very  body  as  well  as  my 
mind  to  shake  and  totter  under  the  sense  of  this  dreadful  judg- 
ment of  God I  felt  also  such  a  clogging  and  heat  in  my 

stomach  by  reason  of  this  terror  that  I  thought  my  breast-bone 
would  split  asunder.  Oh,  how  gladly  would  I  have  been  any- 
thing but  a  man."*  I  could  quote  long  chapters  from  the 
biographies  of  the  saints  to  show  the  wretchedness,  the  despair 
and  the  agony  of  the  believer,  shuddering  upon  the  brink  of 
eternity — uncertain  whether  heaven  or  hell  awaits  to  receive 
him.  I  could  give  you  a  similar  chapter  from  my  own  expe- 
rience. When  I  was  much  younger,  I  had  implicit  faith  in  the 
bible  and  the  unseen  world.  What  was  the  effect  of  this 
belief  upon  me?  Did  it  make  me  happy?  I  can  never  forget 
the  moments  of  agony  I  spent  on  my  knees,  at  the  "throne  of 
grace."  My  pillow  was  often  wet  with  weeping  over  sins  I 
had  never  committed,  and  fearing  a  depravity  I  could  never 
be  guilty  of.  Christianity  in  its  virile  form  took  hold,  of  my 
young  heart  as  the  roots  of  a  tree  take  hold,  of  the  earth  in 


^Imitation — II 1-52. 

*Quoted  by  Cotter  Morrison,  Service  0}  Man — 34. 

2O 


which  they  grow.  I  was  as  sensitive  and  responsive  to  its 
influence  as  fire  is  to  the  wind  that  fans  it  into  flame.  "Am 
I  saved?  How  can  I  be  sure  that  God  has  forgiven  me? 
Where  would  I  open  my  eyes  if  I  should  die  tonight?  Oh, 
God !  what  if  I  should  after  all  be  one  of  the  reprobates — 
damned  forever."  Such  was  the  terrible  superstition  that 
cheated  me  out  of  a  thousand  glorious  moments,  and  made  my 
youth  a  punishment  to  me.  One  day  a  member  of  my  church 
came  to  me  in  great  distress  of  mind.  He  behaved  like  one 
who  had  actually  seen  hell.  "I  am  damned,  I  am  damned," 
he  cried.  "God  has  forsaken  me ;  there  is  no  hope  for  me." 
If  a  wild  beast  had  its  paws  in  his  hair,  or  a  hound  its  teeth 
in  his  flesh,  he  could  not  have  been  more  scared.  If  he  could 
have  only  laughed  at  the  stupid  superstition,  all  the  devils  of 
his  distorted  imagination  would  have  melted  into  thin  air. 

"Our  religion  does  not  trouble  us  that  way,"  I  hear  the  Chris- 
tians say  in  reply.  Of  course  not,  they  no  longer  believe  in  it. 
They  let  art,  music,  science,  the  drama,  business,  to  divert  their 
attention  from  this  Asiatic  fetish.  Rationalism  has  dissipated 
the  terrors  of  the  future,  and  tinted  the  horizon  with  beauty 
and  light.  But  let  them  believe  in  Christianity  as  their  fathers 
believed  in  it,  let  them  be  sincere  with  it,  and  it  will  make 
life  miserable  for  them  as  it  has  for  thousands  of  others.  Yes, 
believe  in  Christianity  as  the  Apostle  Paul  did,  for  example, 
and  you  must  agree  with  him,  that,  "If  in  this  life  only  we 
have  a  hope  in.  Christ,  we  are  of  all  men  most  miserable." 
And  listen  to  the  cry  of  despair  from  the  lips  of  the  Son  of 
God :  "My  God,  My  God,  why  hast  Thou  forsaken  me?"  The 
nails  in  his  hands  and  feet  tore  his  flesh,  but  it  was  the  thought 
that  he  had  been  forsaken  by  God  that  broke  his  heart.  Surely, 
if  a  belief  in  a  future  life  could  make  anybody  happy,  it  should 
have  made  the  death  of  Jesus  a  symphony,  instead  of  a 
tragedy. 

In  conclusion :  Not  God,  nor  the  unseen  world,  but  Truth 
is  the  sovereign  good.  There  is  nothing  more  excellent  If 
there  be  philosophies,  they  shall  pass  away ;  if  there  be  theolo- 
gies, they  shall  pass  away;  if  there  be  creeds,  cults,  gods,  they 
shall  pass  away.  But  Truth  is  from  everlasting  to  everlasting. 
21 


In  my  mind's  eye,  I  see  a  wonderful  building,  something 
like  the  Coliseum  of  ancient  Rome.  The  galleries  are  black 
with  people ;  tier  upon  tier  rise  like  waves  the  multitude  of 
spectators  who  have  come  to  see  a  great  contest.  A  great  con- 
test, indeed !  A  contest  in  which  all  the  world  and  all  the 
centuries  are  interested.  It  is  the  contest — the  fight  to  death — 
between  Truth  and  Error. 

The  door  opens,  and  a  slight,  small,  shy  and  insignificant 
looking  thing  steps  into  the  arena.  It  is  Truth.  The  vast 
audience  bursts  into  hilarious  and  derisive  laughter.  Is  this 
Truth?  This  shuddering  thing  in  tattered  clothes,  and  almost 
naked  ?  And  the  house  shakes  again  with  mocking  and  hisses. 

The  door  opens  again,  and  Error  enters, — clad  in  cloth  of 
gold,  imposing  in  appearance,  tall  of  stature,  glittering  with 
gems,  sleek  and  huge  and  ponderous,  causing  the  building  to 
tremble  with  the  thud  of  its  steps.  The  audience  is  for  a 
moment  dazzled  into  silence,  then  it  breaks  into  applause,  long 
and  deafening.  "Welcome!"  "Welcome!"  is  the  greeting 
from  the  multitude.  "Welcome !"  shout  ten  thousand  throats. 

The  two  contestants  face  each  other.  Error,  in  full  armor, 
— backed  by  the  sympathies  of  the  audience,  greeted  by  the 
clamorous  cheering  of  the  spectators ;  and  Truth,  scorned, 
scoffed  at,  and  hated.  "The  issue  is  a  foregone  conclusion," 
murmurs  the  vast  audience.  "Error  will  trample  Truth  under 
its  big  feet." 

The  battle  begins.  The  two  clinch,  separate,  and  clinch 
again.  Truth  holds  its  own.  The  spectators  are  alarmed. 
Anxiety  appears  in  their  faces.  Their  voices  grow  faint.  Is 
it  possible  ?  Look !  See !  There !  Error  recedes !  It  fears 
the  gaze  of  Truth!  It  shuns  its  beauteous  eyes!  Hear  it 
squeak  and  scream  as  it  feels  Truth's  squeeze  upon  its  wrists. 
Error  is  trying  to  break  away  from  Truth's  grip.  It  is  making 
for  the  door.  It  is  gone ! 

The  spectators  are  mute.  Every  tongue  is  smitten  with  the 
palsy.  The  people  bite  their  lips  until  they  bleed.  They  can- 
not explain  what  they  have  seen.  "Who  would  have  believed 
it?"  "Is  it  possible?" — they  exclaim.  But  they  can  not  doubt 

22 


what  their  eyes  have  seen.  That  puny  and  insignificant  looking 
thing  called  Truth  has  put  ancient  and  entrenched  Error, 
backed  by  the  throne,  the  altar,  the  army,  the  press,  the  people, 
and  the  gods — to  rout. 

The  pursuit  of  truth!  Is  not  that  worth  living  for?  To 
seek  the  truth,  to  love  the  truth,  to  live  the  truth?  Can  any 
religion  offer  more? 

What  is  the  remedy  for  the  pessimism  that  asks,  "Is  life 
worth  living?"  A  sound  mind  in  a  sound  body.  There  is  no 
better  preventive  of  that  depression  of  spirits  whence  proceed 
the  diseases  which  menace  life,  and  mar  the  happiness  of  man, 
than  health — moral,  intellectual,  physical — health;  individual 
and  social  health.  The  highest  ideal  of  Christianity  is  a  man 
of  sorrows.  The  highest  ideal  of  Rationalism  is  a  man  of  joy ! 


THE  STORY  OF  MY  MIND 

HOW  I  BECAME°  A  RATIONALIST 


Price,  Fifty  Cents 


Q  In  this  latest  publication  of  the  Independent  Religious 
Society,  M.  M.  Mangasarian  describes  his  religious  experience — 
how,  starting  as  a  Calvinist,  a  graduate  of  Princeton  Theolog- 
ical Seminary,  and  a  pastor  of  the  Spring  Garden  Presbyterian 
Church  in  Philadelphia,  he  thought  and  fought  his  way  up  to 


RATIONALISM 


<J  The  book  contains  a  dedication  to  "My  Children,"  in 
which  the  author  says  : 

"  I  am  going  to  put  the  story  in  •writing,  that  you  may  have  it  with 
you  when  I  am  gone,  to  remind  you  of  the  aims  and  interests  for  which 
I  lived,  as  well  as  to  acquaint  you  with  the  most  earnest  and  intimate 
period  in  my  career  as  a  teacher  of  men." 


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